Graduates Facing an Unknown Future

By Christy

We were very excited to arrive at Empowering Lives International (ELI) in time for the last of a 6 week training for the "Graduates" — the youth from the Children's Home who had just completed the equivalent of high school. At this stage, they were "aging out" of the Children's Home, and heading into the next chapter, a very unknown chapter, in their lives. This was a defining moment when they would leave their home. They had grown up here with their house parents and their many brothers and sisters, and continued to come home here to reconnect with their ELI family on breaks during secondary school.

Now, they would be heading out on their own, launched into the "real world." The future was full of uncertainty for each one because of how the Kenyan education system works. In the last month of high school, every student takes a national exam. This exam determines everything about their educational and career future. There is only one chance to take it. Prior to taking the exam, students indicate a few preferences for a course of study (e.g., an engineering path, or medical). Then, months after taking the exam, they receive their results, and still about a month later—if they got top grades, they will receive a letter from a university, inviting them to attend and offering scholarship. Often they will not be given the course of study or career path that they desired. Some will learn that they didn't score well enough to go to university at all, and that will be the end of their chance for schooling. In that case, they will need to get a job or enroll in a trade program to learn something like tailoring or metal work. For the remainder “in the middle”, they will have to do more footwork to search and identify possible schools that might accept them, but which they may be unable to afford. I was blown away by how much was at stake with this one exam, and how little choice students have in determining their future.

These graduates had taken the exam in November, and were in the "waiting phase" for the results. What a potentially scary and anxious time! During this waiting period, Empowering Lives was providing them with room, board, and training, led by their petite and very passionate and capable Instructor, Phelistus, whom everyone called "Mama Zawadi" (pictured with our family).

The training was to provide 1) life skills and 2) entrepreneurial skills for starting a successful business, which they can pursue if their schooling ends here, or to earn money during university to pay for expenses since they don't have parents to pay for it. 

Our first chance to spend time with the 20+ Graduates was Sunday afternoon, our first day at Empowering Lives. We took them through some Trust exercises since the theme of Trust would be huge in their lives in the months to come--trusting God with his plans for their future, deciding whom to trust in the unknown chapter ahead, and trusting themselves. They were extremely shy during the activities, and very timid during the discussions.  I tried to stay energetic, though inside, my heart was sinking: “Oh, man, they’re not saying a word…they think this is lame…Ay-yay—they’re gonna dread going to sessions with us Mzungu (white ones) this week.”

They were really hard to read, and we hoped for some break-throughs. That evening after dinner, we joined in with some of them who were playing cards. We taught them Crazy 8's. They were still pretty shy. Then, we taught them Spoons. We all belly laughed every time we made the frenzied rush to grab for spoons, and it helped break the ice.

During one of the meals, I got into a conversation with Victor, one of the Graduates. Among other topics, he asked me about cookies. He recalled that an American visitor who came before had made cookies, and they were delicious. Ahh...that spawned the vision for baking "American" cookies. The next day I got a ride into town, and after 2 stores to find vanilla, I tracked down all the ingredients and we were ready for action to make Snickerdoodles and classic Chocolate Chip cookies. We told Victor, and began inviting the others to come over for a cookie-baking party. Though they were still shy, they responded with total enthusiasm to the cookie invitation! Near the end of dinner, just before the cookie baking was to begin...the electricity went out. This was not unusual here, so why did it take me by surprise? Oh, that stinks, will we have to cancel? We told the students to come join us at our cottage in a bit, and Shayla and I gathered candles and began setting up ingredients using our head lamp flashlights. Students began arriving, and I started thinking it actually might be more fun making cookies together in the dark…but before long, the power came back on.  

What proceeded is a night I will always remember--and cherish. There we were, me and Shayla and Mary, one of the House Parents, with a kitchen full of Graduates "rolling up their sleeves" and totally getting into our baking project.
    

 

The image is so vivid in my mind: these big 19 year old guys so carefully measuring sugar and butter into measuring cups for the first time, and others learning how to crack an egg. 

 

 


[That’s  Victor next to me below, holding the giant block of chocolate we used to improvise for chocolate chips]

Meanwhile, our living room was full of Graduates, too, some trying strums on our guitar, and others (including Trevor) having a great time playing Uno and Jenga.

When the cookies were done, we passed plates all around so they could all try them. They were quite pleased with their creations. After the cooking, conversation ensued. One student shared with Shayla about the traditions in his tribe. He himself was circumcised at age 12 as a "rite of passage" and spent one month in the bush alone. He hunted for food with a bow and arrow, and he killed 12 snakes. How wild it was to learn that this "typical" teen hanging out with us in jeans and a T-shirt had taken part in such traditional tribal experiences, which still take place today in a village not far away.

They stayed late. We were sad to see them all go. What an incredible night. I loved it!! There's nothing more joyous for me than a house full of young people, laughing, loud, playing games, and connecting...and on top of that, we were thousands of miles across the globe, enjoying warm cookies together with our new Kenyan friends, as they taught us Swahili. Awesome!

Throughout the week, we led several workshop sessions with the Graduates, interspersed with work they needed to do individually on their strategic business plan. Each of them had to come up with a business idea. One student was making shampoo. Several others were planning a “cafe” where they would serve chai and mandazi (african donut). One night I had a long conversation with Brian. He shared with me that his mother died of malaria when he was 6, and his father died when he was 9. Unimaginable.
I asked him about his business idea, and his hopes for the future. His answer surprised me. He said he’d like to do real estate. I had asked this same question of most of the students. Most of them were planning on selling food, or re-selling clothing, etc. Brian’s answer was so different than all the rest. We talked further and he told me that his Sponsor (someone who gives financial and moral support) lived in California. And he was in real estate. Ahhhh…Now it made sense. That’s where the inspiration had come from! Once again, I am struck by how powerful the impact of a Sponsor is in the lives of kids here in Africa! I keep seeing the many different ways that a Sponsor impacts the life of the child they support. They give a child encouragement, a sense of belonging, access to education of course, but also less tangible, but critically important things like vision for their future, and hope.  [To sponsor a child, click here.]

   Throughout the week, we did some experiential activities with the Graduates that reinforced some of their training topics, like critical thinking and communication. I led a few sessions with them to help with clarifying their life purpose, using some wonderful curriculum developed by a new friend  and kindred spirit named Suzi whom I met in India (who is also from the Bay Area, but it took us both volunteering at an Orphanage in India to cross paths!). In those sessions I emphasized how each one of them is one of a kind and has an irreplaceable role to play in this world, given their unique talents, experiences and concerns. We gave them time to reflect, and to discuss with peers.

   

Afterwards, Mama Zawadi, who participated in the reflection exercises, told me that these are not topics that people discuss in their culture, and if she would have done those exercises when she was their age, things would have been so much clearer. Then she proceeded to share with me her winding (and difficult) journey before she discovered her "calling" in life. [Note: Her story was so inspiring, and impacted me so much, that I'm going to write a separate blog about it, so stay tuned.]

We also got to lead the very powerful exercise that we had done with youth in Uganda, where they each put a blank paper on their back, and wrote notes about the strengths and special character qualities that they see in each other.

     Barry played some background tunes on guitar, and I intended to lay low while they wrote notes to one another, since they knew each other so much better than I did from all their experiences together.

One of them came up to me to have me write on theirs, and then others lined up as well. It took me by surprise, since I'd known them only a matter of days. It left a deep impression for me...of how much it means to people to have someone affirm their uniqueness and strengths, of how rarely people may hear those things from others (here in Africa, in America, in any culture), and how much treasure and value you can see in others in a very short time, if you look.

The next day, Friday, was the Graduation celebration of the extensive training course. There were speeches by staff and invited guests. Mama Zawadi spoke impassioned words of encouragement to the Graduates, expressing her belief in them and emphasizing that today they would only be receiving a "Certificate of Completion", which was far less important than the "Certificate of Competency" that they would receive in one year, when they have followed through on the plans and commitments they made during this course. It was a sentimental ceremony, and Barry and I had the honor of presenting certificates to some of the graduates. 

Afterwards, there were lots of hugs and congratulations and group photographs, followed by a celebration lunch (which included the ever tasty chapati, always present at special occasions).

After that, they would say farewells and each travel to their own villages where they would stay with someone (a grandma or an older sibling, if they had relatives) and await their exam results and their "future." It felt like such a privilege to get to spend their very last week with them before they "launched into the world." I couldn't imagine what it would be like to be faced with this daunting moment in life, leaving the Children's Home permanently, that they had grown up in. When I finished high school like they just did, I knew I would still be coming home every summer during college, and I would lean on my parents a lot in the years ahead as I found my way in life. They won't have that same comfort.

  
That afternoon, most of the Graduates gathered all their belongings and headed out. My heart ached to see them go, wanting so much for all their hopes and dreams to be realized. In the morning, we had breakfast with Mama Zawadi and the last few students who remained. Victor (our cookie inspirer) and Bernard would be walking the mile and a half to the paved road where they would catch a matatu (bus) to their village.

To postpone having to say goodbye, we decided to join them for the walk.  We talked some along the way, but there was also a somber, intimate quiet between us as we walked that dirt road together for their last time.  I wondered what emotions they were feeling about leaving their Empowering Lives home after all their years there, and how they were feeling about who they were going to live with, and about what lies ahead for them. We took photos with them in front of the road sign pointing to Empowering Lives, and then we gave them hugs. 

My heart was heavy with the feeling I’d now experienced several times on this venture…saying goodbye to someone I had grown fond of, and realizing I will probably never see them again during this lifetime. I felt added emotion, given all the uncertainty they faced about their future. I felt the pangs of a mom, sending a child out into the world, perhaps the feelings that the birth mom they had lost, would be feeling at this milestone. Oh, how I wanted the very best for them, and for all their hopes and dreams for the future to be fulfilled. I felt uneasiness and sorrow at this moment of saying farewell, but I also had a feeling of peacefulness, knowing that we’d had this encounter together for a reason, and that God is holding them and their future in his faithful hands.